


Practically Maried

by Klance__Dreams



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AHH, AU, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Insecure Lance (Voltron), KEITH IS SO OBLIVIOUS BUT WE LOVE HIM ANYWAY, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a florist, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pining, i still don’t know what I’m doing posting this, you can pry these italics from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klance__Dreams/pseuds/Klance__Dreams
Summary: Looking at his apartment with new eyes, he realized Lance was everywhere here.In the kitchen, next to the Cheerios Keith ate every morning, was a box of Lance’s favorite, Cap’N’Crunch, which Keith hated because it was purely sugar. There was a blue toothbrush in Keith’s bathroom, right next to his red one and it’s been there for a while…Or The one where someone comments on how close Keith & Lance are and Keith has a realization...
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Shay/Hunk (Voltron)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 100





	Practically Maried

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t planning on writing a fic, but I was just thinkin’ about Klance not realizing that they’re basically dating until someone points it out - & then they can’t help but go, ‘...huh’

“Be right back, mullet!” Lance grinned with his tongue between his teeth, looking just as pleased with himself over the nickname as he had the first time, as if he hadn’t used it literally a thousand times. 

“Oh ha ha, good one,” Keith said dryly.

Lance laughed, and quickly ruffled Keith’s hair for good measure and as he walked away, calling out, “There! Fixed it!” 

Keith rolled his eyes and kicked his feet up in Lance’s chair, watching Lance retreat to the bathroom as if he owned the place. He couldn’t help but smile at the way people seemed to brighten as Lance passed by, like his proximity alone was enough to lift their spirits.

Suddenly, someone sighed to Keith’s left and he jumped, not realizing someone was so close to their table in the crowded cafe. He looked up to see an employee about his age clearing the recently abandoned table next to his and Lance’s usual booth. 

When he made eye contact with them, they smiled wistfully and blurted out, “Y’all are such a cute couple! I always see you in here together and it makes me feel so damn single every time. How long have you been together?”

Keith’s brain takes a pause there. First of all, that was a lot to unpack. 

“Together?” Keith managed to reply, feeling a little lost. 

They seemed to startle at his clipped tone, backpedaling, “Oh! Sorry! I just...you seem like you’re really comfortable around each other so I just assumed...” they blushed and picked up the last plate. “I’m so sorry, please just ignore me.” As they walked away, they looked up to see Lance sitting back down, clearly checking him out in the process. 

Keith bristled a little bit, shooting them a look as they took the stack of dishes back to the kitchen. Who did they think they were? You can’t just ask people stuff like _that_ and then blatantly check them out! 

His thoughts were interrupted as Lance shoved Keith’s feet off of his seat and sat back down, looking between Keith and his phone. Suddenly, he grinned and raised his phone up. Keith didn’t realize Lance had taken a photo until Lance shoved his phone in Keith’s face. Twitter was open on a picture of Keith visibly sulking with the caption, “Brunch with my favorite optimist!”

“Don’t worry, I tagged you,” Lance said with that impish grin of his.

“Delete that!” said Keith, affronted. He tried to grab the phone out of Lance’s hand but Lance knew him well enough to anticipate this, twisting back and sticking his phone out of sight.

“No way dude! You look even more emo than normal and that’s saying something. I need this!”

Keith’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he realized Lance had probably sent it as a text too, and knowing him, probably to the group chat. 

He held up his phone, now showing that picture as his lock screen photo. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me...For the last time, I am _not_ emo,” his eyes narrowed. He needed to flick his bangs out of his eyes, but he didn’t want to give Lance the satisfaction right now…

“Keith what’s that on your hand!” Lance shouted suddenly.

Keith eyes shot down to his hand, expecting to see a spider or something alarming enough to warrant the tone and pitch of Lances voice, but it was...just his glove?

“Uh...just my glove?” He said, nonplussed.

“ _Aha_!” Lance practically shouted. “And what kind of glove?” He asked with an innocent smile.

Keith knew where he was going with that and wasn’t going to respond. His tight lipped response only made Lance’s mouth twitch into an even bigger grin, however.

“ _Fingerless_ gloves,” said Lance, undeterred.

“Whatever,” Keith rolled his eyes and stuffed the last bite of his food in his mouth to avoid answering.

“Keef, _‘whatever’_ is literally exactly what an emo would say,” he looked at Keith expectantly.

Keith just shrugged and wiped his hands on his napkin, balling it up and dropping it in the mess left on his plate. 

“You have a little, uh… somethin’ on your lip, dude,” said Lance. 

When he looked up, Lance was staring at his face, mouth quirked to the side. His hand with the phone in it was twitching and _this_ time, Keith did know better. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he pointed at Lance, who pouted but put his phone down on the table before he could snap another photo, which Keith counted as a win.

Keith didn’t have his napkin anymore, and they didn’t have any more left. He considered flagging down that waiter from earlier but quickly threw out that idea. They had seemed to think that he and Lance were a couple, which was obviously wrong on so many levels. He and Lance could never be a couple—they fought literally all of the time, couldn’t agree on anything. They’d never work.

“Are you saving it for later or…?” said Lance, tapping the same spot on his own face as if Keith might be too dense to get his meaning.

“I ran out of napkins,” Keith sighed, and was about to wipe his mouth on his hand or his shirt when Lance’s hand shot out and cupped the side of his face. 

“Don’t be gross, Keith,” said Lance, looking pained.

Keith was too startled to move, for a second, thinking Lance was going to hit him, but instead he was lifting his own unused napkin, already wiping away the speck of food from Keith’s mouth.

He held still, eyes drifting from Lance when the feeling of being watched slithered down his spine. Looking toward the front counter, he accidentally locked eyes with the employee from earlier. They had this look on their face that Keith couldn’t decipher as they watched the two of them.

Keith suddenly realized how close he and Lance were; Lance had scooted practically into Keith’s lap to wipe the food away and it hadn’t been weird until he felt the way that employees eyes burned into him. Lance was cupping Keith’s face with his other hand, blue eyes intense and pouty mouth open just a touch as he concentrated, making sure he got it all.

“There,” said Lance, looking pleased with himself. He sat back down right next to Keith— _not_ scooting away—and put his own napkin on Keith’s dirty plate. 

“So did you still want to watch the new episode tonight?” said Lance, as he stood up, picking up Keith’s red hoodie and throwing it over his own arm haphazardly.

Keith wasn’t really listening, but nodded. The employee winked and disappeared into the kitchen again. Keith furrowed his eyebrows, but instinctually got up and followed Lance’s lead. He hadn’t told Lance he could use his hoodie, but Lance was _always_ cold and it happened more often than not. Keith always ran hot and it was only October so he didn’t really need it anyway.

Outside the cafe, Lance saluted him and said, “See ya later, Keiffers!” And started his walk back to the flower shop he worked at with Allura a couple blocks away. 

“Later!” Keith called back distractedly, throwing one leg over his bike and pausing that way.

He couldn't stop thinking about what the cafe employee had said, or the smug look on their face when Lance came back. Pulling out his phone, he started a text.

> ‘ _do you think Lance and I act like we’re dating?’_

He sent it to Pidge and Shiro. Other than Lance, the two of them knew him best and he was curious over both of their points of view.

Pidge texted back right away, twice in succession,

> ‘ _uh yeah dude literally everyone and their dog thinks that’_

_ > ‘you’re practically married’_

Keith flinched back, holding his phone away from his face like that would make the words go away. 

_Married?_ Him and _Lance?_

As he started up his bike and made the drive back to his apartment, he couldn’t help but run Pidge’s words through his mind. _You’re practically married,_ they had said. And, sure he and Lance were _close_ but they weren’t like that! Obviously. 

Still, he couldn’t help but think about it even as he got home, setting his helmet down and kicking off his shoes. 

He was about to discard his keys in cat hall bowl ther. … the bowl _Lance_ had bought for him, but paused to look at it; it was a red cat with the words _‘you’ve cat to be kitten me right meow!_ ’ in white script. Keith thought it was hideous but Lance had called it kitschy and then shouted in distress and called him a heathen when Keith had said he usually just left his keys wherever he was when he remembered to take them out of his pocket.

He’d never really thought about it before, but Lance was always doing stuff like that. 

Keith scratched the back of his head as he rolled that thought around. Looking at his apartment with new eyes, he realized Lance was everywhere here.

In the kitchen, next to the Cheerios Keith ate every morning, was a box of Lance’s favorite, Cap’N’Crunch, which Keith hated because it was purely sugar. There was a blue toothbrush in Keith’s bathroom, right next to his red one and it’s been there a while; and his shower had expensive brands of shampoo and conditioner lined up on the shelf that Keith pretended not to love, courtesy of Lance, who insisted that if Keith wasn’t gonna cut his hair, he had to _at least_ take care of it. The small bookcase in the living room had a line of rom-com movies lined up next to Keith’s all time favorite b-horror movies because Keith knew that watching them was the fastest way to make Lance smile after a bad day. The little whiteboard hung up by the front door literally said, _‘Lancey Lance was here_ ’ with the little sunglasses guy emoji drawn in. 

Keith felt like he was in a daze as he collapsed heavily on the couch. As he settled in, he felt something digging into his thigh, and when he pulled it out from between the cushion and the arm of the couch, he discovered it was a small bottle of purple nail polish that Lance had tried to paint on his and Keith’s nails a couple weeks ago. He’d given in of course, but _not_ because Lance claimed it would match his emo aesthetic. He’d given in because Lance had the most lethal set of puppy dog eyes he’d seen in his entire life and he had grown up with _Shiro._

“We _are_ practically married…” Keith whispered to himself, staring down at the floor in disbelief. 

Even there, between the couch and the coffee table, Lance’s favorite olive jacket sat on the floor, forgotten from his last visit. Keith picked it up, noticing it smelled like Lance, like vanilla and coconut and a blend of the other ten thousand products he used on a daily basis. Keith nearly dropped it again when, feeling startled he realized the thought had made him smile. 

Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to clean the place swept over him, so he did. Putting all of Lance’s things into a pile as he came across them. 

When his phone buzzed in his pocket later, he was elbow deep underneath his bathroom sink, trying to find the Bath and Body Works spray he knew Lance had left a while back, determined to round everything up. Lance didn’t _live_ here. Maybe it _was_ weird that his stuff was everywhere. The thought of removing everything of Lances, including the things Lance had given him made him feel uneasy though. The place would basically be empty if he did. Lance had literally helped him pick out and put together his furniture for god sakes. 

As he pulled out his phone, he read Shiro’s message through the cracked screen.

> _‘Kind of, bud. But that’s not a bad thing! It’s good to have someone you feel so close to!’_

_ > ‘Why?! Do YOU like HIM? I KNEW-ADKFHA’_

_ > ‘Adam stole my phone, sorry. But anyway. Don’t freak out Keith. Just remember he’s important to you, labels don’t really matter anyway!’_

He chuckled, thinking of how Lance would have called Shiro _dad_ over a message like that. He was about to put his phone away when it started buzzing again, the name ‘ _Sharpshooter 😎💪🏽’_ flashing across the screen with a picture of Lance making a dumb face, complete with fingerguns in the background.

For a second, he considered ignoring the call, but then he slid the call open and said, “What?” Standing up and brushing his hands off, holding _Lavender Vanilla Moonlight_ Body Mist in his other hand, feeling victorious. He _knew_ it was there.

“Wow, pleasant as always,” Lance laughed through the line and Keith scoffed.

“Uh sorry, I was just distracted,” Keith said, avoiding his own eyes in the mirror as he recognized the smile tugging at his lips — it hadn’t been there before the phone call, he was pretty sure. 

“It’s okay, Keef, I love ya’ _despite_ your delinquent attitude!” Said Lance cheerfully.

Keith’s eyes widened. Lance said stuff like that all the time but today it felt weird… He felt a flush roll up his chest, across his cheeks and to his ears. The _‘love ya’_ part sounding suspiciously like ‘ _cute couple’_ and _‘practically married_ ’ in his mind. 

Keith must have been quiet for too long, because Lance continued on, “So I grabbed some pizza on the way home so we don’t have to stop the show to order anything. I know we just ate like...a couple hours ago but that was _brunch_ and I got off early today so, hey ohmygod! _Keith!_ You should _see_ this dog! Hi buddy! Aren’t you so cute! AW,” he’s laughing at Lance, pulling the phone way from his ear at Lance’s volume. This wasn’t unusual for them; Their phone calls were often much too long due to Lance’s tendency to get easily distracted and go off on tangents, or in this case, spot a cute dog. 

Keith cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he made his way to the bedroom, changing out of his jeans and into some old, soft sweatpants. They were kind of thin from being washed too many times but they were comfortable. 

By the time he made it back into the living room with his laptop, Lance had finally parted with his new friend.

“Keith,” said Lance, in an uncharacteristically serious voice. It caught Keith’s attention like he was sure it was meant to.

“Hm?” He hummed back over the line, switching the phone from his shoulder back to his hand as he leaned against the arm of the couch, laptop forgotten.

“You really, really, really need to get a dog.” 

The fact that he waited for Keith to speak instead of barreling on was proof that he was serious about this, but Lance was always serious about dogs. 

“Why do I need a dog? _You_ get a dog,’ Keith groaned.

“KEEF!” Lance called out in the way only he and most thirteen-year-old girls could. ”You _know_ we can’t have pets at our apartment and you can!”

“Lance...I like _cats_. I’ve never had a dog.”

They’d always had cats growing up. He _liked_ cats and he still had a picture of him and his childhood cat, _Red,_ framed on the bookshelf. Shiro and Adam had a cat; it's all he’d ever experienced.

“See, I _thought_ you might say something like that!, so I- uh...I found this shelter kinda near Hunk’s bakery and oh man, oh boy…Keef, I kinda signed up to volunteer there. And I uh… I kind of _might have_ signed you up too.”

“Lance!” Keith groaned, throwing his head against the back of the couch dramatically, even though no one was there to see it.

“I know!” Said Lance, defensively, “But Keef, I really think if you just...you know... _met_ some dogs, you might like them! And they need the help! Please go with me please, please, pleaaaaaseeee-“

“Christ, Lance _okay._ I’ll go!” He rolled his eyes, not able to contain a smile at Lance’s shouted, _YES_ over the line.

“Oh shit,” Lance laughed.

“You almost dropped the pizza didn’t you?” Asked Keith, knowingly.

“That’s not important!” 

“Sure,” Keith replied in amusement. He could practically _hear_ Lance sticking his tongue out at him over the phone. It wasn’t endearing. It _wasn’t._

“So anyway are you getting here any time soon _Sharpshooter_? Because I might be eighty by the time you get here,” said Keith, digging his laptop back out and absently clicking through some emails.

“I’m outside you dick. Hunk gave me a ride to the pizza place because he’s a _good_ friend who doesn’t mock me all the time and then I walked from there in the _freezing_ cold to get your precious pizza, Kogane.” 

Keith laughed, “Lance the pizza place is two blocks away and it is fifty five degrees outside.” He closed the laptop again and set it aside, going to the door when the bell started ringing persistently. 

If he didn’t know that as a Lance move, he would’ve figured it out by the fact that he could hear it over the phone too, from Lance’s side. 

“I’ll have you know-“ Lance started, but Keith rolled his eyes and ended the call, shoving the phone into his pocket and opening the door to find Lance balancing three pizza boxes, a thing of flowers, his backpack and his phone. 

“Keith! You hung up on me! I was _saying-_ “

“‘ _I’m Cuban! It’s cold to me!’_ ” Said Keith, completely in sync with Lance. He’d heard that line a thousand times. “Your grandparents live in Cuba, doofus. You grew up in the states, just like me.” 

“You don’t know I was going to say that!” Lance crossed his arms stubbornly, his cheeks red and hair ruffled from the fall breeze.

“I know you, blue,” said Keith with a smirk. 

_‘We’re practically married,’_ he added in his head. Keith took the pizza boxes and flowers from Lance, who had a funny look on his face, something fond mixed with exasperation in his eyes as he pulled the sleeves of Keith’s hoodie lower over his own hands. 

“Okay, true, but you don’t have to do me like that man,” said Lance as he pushed inside, dropping his own keys in the red cat bowl and then flopping dramatically on the couch with a long winded sigh.

“Long day at work?” Keith called from the kitchen. He put the pizza boxes on the counter for later and pulled a wilted bouquet of flowers from the container by the sink and replaced them with the new bundle Lance had brought.

The first time Lance had brought flowers to Keith’s house, Keith thought they were for a girl he was probably meeting up with later, but when he asked about them, Lance had frozen in place, red faced and stuttering over a denial he never got out. He had marched the bouquet of daisies into Keith’s kitchen, asked for a vase and said, “They’re for _you_ , Edward Cullen. Even you can’t be too emo for flowers. They make it look _homey._ And I got that job at the flower shop, so they were free.” He looked pleased until he realized Keith didn’t have a vase (of course he didn’t — why _would_ he?) but found a home for them in an old thermos Keith had lying around.

He still used the thermos as a vase when Lance brought flowers. And Lance was right, they _did_ look nice.

When he joined Lance in the living room, he was upside down on the couch, legs over the back and head hanging off the cushioned seat with his eyes closed, fingers pinched over his nose.

“That bad, huh?” 

Lance hmmed and met Keith’s eyes, calm for once. For whatever reason, Keith still startled sometimes at just how blue Lance’s eyes were against his tan skin. Objectively, Keith could admit they were very pretty. All of Lance was pretty, honestly, but most of Keiths’ friends were good looking. He’d never really thought about it seriously until then; the words _‘practically married’_ ringing through his head on a constant loop.

Keith grabbed a bottle of Tylenol from the medicine cabinet and a glass of water from the kitchen, gesturing for Lance to sit up so he could take the medicine from him. 

“Thanks,” said Lance, sleepily. “It was just...there’s this old man that always comes by every Tuesday and he buys lilies for his wife’s grave, he always bought them for her when she was alive too, which is super sweet but also super sad, obviously. Allura told me he’s been coming by since she was a little girl, but anyway,” Lance trailed off, looking upset again, tugging Keith’s hoodie tighter around his shoulders, like he was trying to comfort himself. 

Keith scooted closer, offering up a shoulder for Lance, like always. _‘Practically married,’_ a voice in his mind that sounded like Pidge piped up. He pushed it away, as Lance shot him a small sad smile and cuddled into Keith’s side appreciatively, his cold hands finding Keith’s side and digging into the warmth.

“Anyway,” Keith softly prompted, lowering an arm around Lance and squeezing just a little bit. 

“Anyway,” Lance, continued, “The old man died I guess… he didn’t come by the shop this week and then his son came by today and ordered flowers for the funeral. Allura said she was gonna give them to him for free because of all the business the man had given them over the years.” Lance laughed wetly, causing Keith to look down in alarm as Lance rubbed his cheek against Keith’s black shirt. 

Was he _crying? Oh god._

 _“Lance,”_ he says softly, feeling gutted at seeing his happy go lucky friend upset over something like this.

“I know,” Lance said in a small voice, sinking in on himself a little bit, looking much too small for Keith’s liking. “I know I’m being stupid and too dramatic. I know I didn’t even really know him. I haven’t even worked there that long! But _Keithˆ_ its just… so _sad,_ ” he sniffed _._

Keith pulled Lance in tighter, “Hey, it’s not stupid,” he said softly, “You’re not being too dramatic, Lance. It’s okay to be upset...you were used to seeing him around. Anyone would be sad,” said Keith, brows pulled down low. He rubbed his hand up Lance’s arm, feeling him relax as he did.

“Thanks Keith,” said Lance in a near whisper.

Lance snuggled his cheek a little closer to Keith’s neck, tucked in there like it was something he’d done a million times; apparently unable to hear the thundering of Keith’s heart under his ears or if he could hear it, he didn’t comment on it. Keith stiffened for a moment, not wanting to push Lance off like he usually might because the boy was still sniffling a little bit. 

“Anytime Lance,” Keith replied just as quiet. Afraid to break the moment, he leaned his head down, resting his cheek on the top of Lance’s head, accidentally tickling him with his hair in the process. 

He expected Lance to make a mullet joke, like usually would. 

Instead, he got Lance reaching up and threading his fingers through Keith’s hair, fingers brushing through it as they sat together in the quiet room, only the TV on low volume playing in the background to break up the noise.

 _Practically married,_ Keith rolled the thought around in his head, overlaying it with the warmth and weight of Lance against his chest. For the first time that day, he found himself feeling a little wistful at the thought. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have most of the next part already written, it just needs some tweaking. It’ll be Lance POV with some flashback.
> 
> I’m really not used to posting fic, but this was too big to fit into a twitter thread so here we are! Leave a comment so I can feel valid for doing this because I have no confidence in my writing whatsoever x)
> 
> Come yell at me on Twitter (@Klance__Dreams) ! I have a lot of feels for Klance and I’m never too tired to talk about them. :’)
> 
> This is purely unedited and I’m sorry for your eyes xD


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